Drone

4 Faceless.

Niklas sprinted away from the lingering zealots and made for the light chasm. A long bridge spanned the light shaft at three hundred meters, which opened through all five levels.

"You, drone! Stop!"

Niklas dared a glance over his shoulder. The three zealots who stayed behind pounded the deck in hot pursuit. The leader's mask marked him a master zealot. Luckily, none of the other bowing officers or priests joined them.

"Stop!" the master zealot barked.

Niklas ran faster. His legs were stiff and ached from his testing the previous day.

Niklas scrambled to the bridge and started running across. The densest branches were overhead. Three hundred meters, and he could disappear into the offices on the other side. As he ran, he sensed something off. He didn't hear the zealots' footfalls behind him. Had they stopped?

Striiike!

A bolt of yellow light streaked past Niklas and shattered a branch, throwing smoking splinters into Niklas' face.

Niklas dropped with a cry. Adrenaline surged through him as he spun. The zealots had stopped at the head of the bridge, but the leader held a pistol with yellow smoke trailing from the barrel. A Pyrlux pistol!

"No!" Niklas cried as he threw his hands up in his panic. "Please!" he begged. "No!"

Without a word, the zealot motioned him over with his Pyrlux pistol. Yellow lights pulsed along lumaulic channels along the weapon's body. Powerful and unstable, one hit from that thing would liquefy his organs.

Niklas looked behind him. Over two hundred meters separated him from the other side. It was a straight line; he'd be an easy, unarmored target.

Niklas glanced down. Twenty meters further down on the second level, a bridge intersected with the one he was on. It was at least a twenty-meter drop, and several Drones were crossing it.

Reluctantly, Niklas started to walk back across the bridge toward his pursuers. The two standing behind the leader drew zealot blades, and the Master zealot lowered his weapon.

Niklas turned and charged back away from them. He heard one of the zealots curse, and Niklas screamed.

Striiike!

At the last second, Niklas vaulted the rail and dropped into the dark chasm as the rail exploded behind him.

He jumped too early. His momentum carried him but not far enough. Rather than landing on the cross-bridge on level two, his face slammed into the rail, and he fell back. He frantically grabbed the lip of the bridge, holding on for dear life, his feet dangled over the edge. He grew dizzy at the remaining drop to the forest floor.

Niklas tasted blood in his mouth.

"Oi!" a drone cried on the bridge. "What happened, man?"

Three drones hurriedly grabbed Niklas by the wrist to tow him back onto their bridge.

"What were you thinking?" one of the drones snapped as they pulled him to safety under the rail. Blood ran down Niklas' chin. "You're mad taking that jump."

Niklas pulled his mask off to spit out a mouthful of blood. Already, his lip began to swell.

"You're bleeding," another one noted. "Do you need a medic?"

Niklas looked up. "No," he gasped in horror, seeing three figures gliding down from the bridge above toward his bridge on level two. Their robes billowed out to the side, catching air and allowing them to glide gracefully down to the second level.